When the Dust has Settled
by Dark Seroph
Summary: A collection of one-shots detailing the life after the Great War that had engulfed all of Tellius. Cannon pairings, very little romancing in general.


It had been decades since he had breathed the sweet scent of Crimean air, and even after such a long time, the mage could still recognize the familiar scent of home. Or, what had been home, once a long, long time ago. In the time that he and Ike had ventured from this place, they had seen strange new lands, been entrenched in a war on foreign soil, and had met the tribes of laguz and beorc that hadn't the slightest inkling of the land that lay beyond the Desert of Death that separated their peoples. The countries that they had explored were all new and exotic, and both he and the blue-haired warrior he had once traveled with had needed to learn a new language or two during their travels.

But Crimea had stayed exactly as he remembered, as fertile and green and peaceful as when he'd left. A few towns had expanded in number, and the laguz now walked the streets as if it were the most natural thing in the world, exchanging pleasant conversation with beorc as they went about their daily life. The Fort that had once been his home was still standing, though perhaps a little more weathered than he remembered. The most notable change was the appearance of what seemed to be a small chapel that had been built between the main building and the stables. People that he did not recognize walked in and out, chatting and laughing even as they carried weapons and donned mismatched armor. The mood lingering here was even still the same, only the faces had changed.

In reality, Soren hadn't undergone a significant transformation either. His body has passed the appearance of puberty a few years back, and he was now sporting the body of a young man in the midst of discovering adulthood. However, where his aging had been an agonizingly slow crawl before, it had seemed to have come to a permanent stop all together as of late. Nothing, save necessary change of clothing and hair styles, had changed for him in the last decade. He wore his hair back these days, and had abandoned the dark colors he had previously been fond of. The scorching sun of the Desert of Death and Hatori did not play nicely with dark clothing, as he had discovered at great personal expense during their venturing. He wondered if anyone from the old Greil's Mercenaries -if any were still here- would be able to recognize him at all? Well, there was perhaps only one way to find out.

As he approached the fort, a man in his late twenties caught sight of him and stopped chopping wood with the cumbersome axe he held to watch the stranger. There was something familiar in his gait as he walked toward the road, and his body build and green eyes stirred a memory or two within the mage. He couldn't recall, however, knowing anyone with those eyes that also possessed sandy brown hair.

"Can I help you stranger?" He asked, stopping a respectful distance in front of Soren, a comforting and helpful sort of smile on his face.

"Yes," The mage replied, perhaps a tad uneasily. He was suddenly very aware of the unfamiliar weight of Ragnell at his back, and it's presence weighed as heavily on his heart as it did on his physical body. "I am looking for Mist, sister of-"

"Oh! You've got business with ma, then?" The man asked, seeming a little amused at the realization. His smile changed into a friendly grin, and he gestured toward the double doors that barred the entrance to the Fort. "I suppose you're one of her therapy flock, eh? Well, come on in, then."

Ma? It suddenly dawned on Soren that Mist -like Ike- would have aged considerably in his absence. To have a son so old... And now that he knew, he could easily see Boyd's traits that the man had inherited. He really was just a spitting image of his father with just a few of Mist's characteristics thrown in. Following him, Soren was escorted inside the Fort he knew so well like a stranger that wouldn't know what to do with himself... The irony of the situation was not lost on the former tactician.

"Ma! Someone's here to see you again!" The man called into the depths of the building. A woman's voice yelled something back, and Soren was again struck by just how old that replying voice sounded.

When Mist turned the corner and appeared, Soren almost flinched at the radical change in her appearance. Ike's aging had hit him hard, but it was a gradual thing to witness, not this sudden transformation that now stood before the mage, a radical departure from the young girl he'd known years ago.

Her tawny hair was heavily streaked with gray, wrinkles covering the once youthful face, especially around the eyes and mouth, the youthful skin now sagging with age. She seemed to have shrunk a little as well, and there was a fragility about her that made Soren even more afraid to reveal her brother's death to the now very elderly woman. Where before she had stood straight and proud, with the beauty of youth around her, she had the slightest bowing of the back, and a squint that told of vision gone bad, dignity that comes only with age replacing her good-looks of yore. All the same, she gave him a warm smile that was very motherly in nature, and greeted this stranger in her home kindly.

"Thank you, Riven. And how can I help you, young man?" She asked, dismissing her son to return to his yard work.

Soren was taken aback by her greeting... _Young man?_ To think that they were the same age... it was beyond his ability to put to words the sort of despair he felt at the blunt realization that time had gone on without him. Clearing his throat, he remembered his duty, and managed to find his voice once more before too much time could elapse. "I bring news of your brother." He could not help the slight crack in his voice as he thought of Ike, and unable to manage to speak much louder than an elevated hoarse whisper. But, it seemed as if Mist could still hear him, if the look on her face was anything to judge by.

She was a little taken aback by his statement, examining Soren closer now than she had before. Was that a flicker of recognition in her eyes? "Ike? What have you got to say about him? He's been gone for years."

He could not help the sadness that crept into his gaze as he unbuckled the belt that held Ragnell to his back, removing the blade slowly before holding it out flat in front of Mist, finding himself utterly incapable of speech.

Upon seeing the sword, Mist gasped, tears instantly appearing in her eyes as her fingers skimmed the surface of the sacred blade she knew so well. "Oh Ike..." She whispered, eyes glued to the shining surface.

"It was... his dying wish that this would be returned to you." Soren said, struggling hard to keep his voice from cracking again with the tears he knew were lurking just below the surface.

She took Ragnell from him gently, her tears beginning to slide down her face. When she spoke again, it was with her sadness completely unveiled, watering eyes never leaving the blade. "How... how did he die?"

"Proudly." The mage replied automatically. "He never lost his nobility, even when faced with the death of an old man very far from home. He did not curse his old age, or beg for more time... He simply wished for you to know that he never forgot about you, and the life he left behind."

At that, Mist began crying in earnest, making no effort to hide her tears and leaning on Ragnell for support, the tip of the blade resting on the floor now. It was a little while before she could manage a recovery, wiping her eyes with her sleeves. "And Soren? What of him?"

He was caught momentarily at a loss for words. For one, he was shocked that she cared enough about him to ask. Secondly, what _could_ he say? That he had lived and would continue to do so for many a year while Ike, by far the more worthy of the two of them, had died a death hardly worthy of his character? "He died at Ike's side after giving me the sword to bring to you." Which, in a symbolic kind of way, was true. The person he had been before was dead without Ike, the sole source of any joy he'd ever had in his bleak life of tragedy. Now, he was but an empty shell with no purpose left to him. His last duty to Ike, returning Ragnell to his sister, had been his final mission.

Mist nodded in response, completely unaware that she was talking to the man that she now assumed was dead. "I hope that he finally found peace... But what of you now, traveler? You have given me something precious. Can I return the favor?"

Soren was shaking his head before she even finished her sentence. "No, but thank you for the offer. I have other places to be." Which was a blatant lie, but he could not stand the thought of spending much longer in this place. To be surrounded by the memories of the past and faced with the reality of age that had wreaked havoc with his life and all that had been precious within it. To look through the fort he had known so well and see the rooms that once held familiar faces to remain unchanged save for the new band of mercenaries that now resided here. Even as their conversation had wound on, he was able to catch glimpses of the new members wandering about in the halls behind Mist. Each time somebody passed, he imagined the faces of friends long gone superimposed on these newer recruits, and the sight tore at what little was left of his feeling heart.

"Well... thank you, stranger. May the road see you well."

Soren nodded respectfully and turned, exiting the building in a hurry before he could start weeping again. As he walked, a thought occurred to him: where _would_ he go? Ike had asked that he continue to live his life and one day learn to embrace what he was, just as the warrior had embraced the fact that he was dying, not at the end of a sword, but in a bed, immobile and helpless. _'At the end of your road, I don't want you to look back and see nothing but darkness surrounding you.'_ That is what Ike had said, and even though Soren was of the mind that ending his life would be the far less painful route, he would do his best to honor Ike's wish for as long as he could bear to go on.

Something in his memory began to bubble up to the surface, a conversation from over four decades ago. That's right... Stephan, the other Branded he had met had offered a sanctuary, the bastard. He had known all along that Soren would outlive the one man he had ever grown to trust, even as Soren had attempted to deny that same fact every day with every fiber of his being. And now, he would be collecting on that early investment, nearly half a century later. He wondered how much the green-haired sword master would have aged by now, if at all? Stopping briefly to get his bearings and to wipe the tears that had collected at the corners of his eyes, Soren decided that the Grann Desert would be his next stop.

Maybe, just maybe, he would find there that acceptance that he could find nowhere else. The acceptance that Ike had show him in life, and had told him to seek after death. "One last time..." Soren mumbled, guiding himself to the nearest high road that would take him out of Crimea once more, into Daein, and South to the Grann. Once more, he would act upon the request of his dearest friend, and try to find peace within himself...

Once more.

* * *

Soren: *is shocked into silence*

Seroph: It's a sad life you lead, my little branded friend.

Mist: *screams* I'M OLD?!?!

Boyd: HEY! Where am I in this???

Seroph: You died. Men do tend to die ten or so years before their spouse, after all.

Boyd: *shocked into silence*

Right, so, this isn't going to be a series, more like a collection of short bits and pieces. I think that I'll update a minimum of two more here within the next year or so centering mostly around the Greil Mercs. If you want to see somebody's after story according to me, drop a note and I'll consider it. I'm leery about writing about anybody that appears only in Radiant Dawn, but if you really want to see somebody's post-war story that only appears in the second game, you can ask for it. Do be aware though that I'll only do cannon pairings and such, though it pains me greatly to not see Elincia and Ike together. Until next time...

ALSO, I forgot to post this on the first edit... But **Fire Emblem does not belong to me in any way, shape, or form. I am not collecting any sort of monies or other benefits from writing this; it is purely fan based and without profit for myself or anyone else involved directly or indirectly with the writing of this story.**


End file.
